


In All The Stars

by tendocandy



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Don't copy to another site, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-22 11:39:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17661884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tendocandy/pseuds/tendocandy
Summary: Pike has finally brought Spock onto the Discovery. In between the spaces of the chase for the Red Angel, Pike attempts to get Spock to open up, meet Tilly, and not self-destruct, not exactly in that order.





	1. Right Out The Gate

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know, Spock hasn't even shown up on the show yet, and here I am jonesing for the ot3. I adore Pike/Tilly, but the way Pike spoke about Spock in s2e1, that was more than just praise. I can't help but see those two have feelings for each other, even if Spock is in a stasis of denying all things human about himself. It led to me deciding they're my hurt/comfort ot3- Spock is broken, Pike is the support anchor, and Tilly is the heart. I just...I needed to flail!!! *feel free to blather on in comments- I need a vent XD*
> 
> edit- the fic's going to be heavy Pike/Tilly to start.

Tilly waited for the lift doors to open, studying her padd intently, off duty clothes so much more comfortable than the uniform. She mindlessly walked into the lift when it arrived, half gnawing on her thumbnail as she read, barely aware of the two other people in the lift with her. She mumbled the floor destination, then returned to her padd and thumbnail chewing. There was a familiar velvety rumble ( who cares what the words were) as one of them spoke, but then there was a matching voice (almost but not quite) from the second person. She vaguely registered it, but she was too busy committing all these regulatory guides to memory to look. She tapped at the padd as she flipped through the info, marking notes between tapping her nail on her teeth, noting the floors passed, then another rumble from that voice (was that my name?), another note, another floor

 

“ENSIGN.” She nearly dropped her padd as she startled to attention. Pike was snickering at her fluster, but he resumed a more serious expression immediately. “You are really committed to the coursework, aren’t you?”

 

She brushed loose curls back from her face, huffing a little as she remembered they had company in the lift.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“You realize you’re off-duty, right? TAKE A BREAK. That’s an order.” He winked at her, and she pursed her lips a little.

 

“Yes, captain.” She noticed (finally!) their guest and made quick mental notes before Pike said anything.

 

Vulcan. Scruffy. Black clothes, not uniform. That’s a nice coat. Wait, vulcans come in scruffy?

 

“Wanted you to meet my science officer from the Enterprise, Mr. Spock.”

 

She pulled her padd close to her chest, turning it off, and stuck her hand out. Spock kept his hands behind him and just looked at her calmly as Pike pushed her hand down, discouraging the handshake.

 

“Wait, I thought the officer that came here and. . . “ She slowly withdrew her hand, unsure where to put it now after the awkward attempt of a greeting.

 

Pike’s eyes shifted down momentarily. “He was the junior officer, stepping in for Spock after we returned.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She felt extremely ill at ease suddenly, like she almost stepped into a open access shaft.

 

“Please don’t be. He knew the risks of the position, as all officers are.” Spock betrayed no change of expression with his matter-of-fact statement. Tilly just looked at him as her brain tried to make sense how his voice sounded so similar to Pike’s.

 

“I just . . . was he your protege? I mean . . . I’m sort of Stamets’ protege, though I’m here on my own . . . now . . . “ She saw Pike shake his head just a little. 

 

“We’re on our way to eat. Want to join us?” Pike asked, his smile lighting up briefly. Tilly fumbled with her padd a little, fighting back a stammering reply. “It’d be a good chance to ask us anything pertaining to your coursework. If you want.”

 

Tilly flicked her gaze over to Spock, who currently had his gaze trained to the floor, seemingly uninterested in the conversation.

 

“I don’t think I could intrude, especially if he just got here and you need to bring him up to speed. . . ?,” she gestured by lifting her shoulder a touch. The lift had stopped and the doors had opened behind her, and Pike gently took her arm and nudged her to turn and start walking. He fell in step next to her, with Spock trailing behind. She couldn’t help but feel his presence behind her like the threat of an incoming thunderstorm.

 

“I have been sufficiently informed of our progress to date. You need not worry about intruding.” Tilly glanced over her shoulder at the vulcan, to see him cast his gaze at her momentarily before returning it ahead of him. She looked back to Pike, one hand tapping against hers to hook a finger against her pinky for a brief moment. She squeezed back before releasing him to readjust the padd in her arm while they paced down the slightly curving corridor towards the officer’s mess hall.

 

“I suppose I can take advantage of this. It's not often I get to pick the brain of my favorite captain.” As soon as the words came from her mouth, Pike slid a sly look at her with a snort. “. . . and an officer of a different . . .station.” She felt herself grimacing a little as she tacked on her justification.

 

“Stay professional, captain,” came the unexpected quiet quip from behind. Tilly felt her face flush hot, and she was suddenly not so keen on dinner. Pike glanced over his shoulder.

 

“I am. Always my personal warning system, always on duty.” He chuckled a little as he turned back, then stepped ahead of Tilly into the open doorway to the officer’s mess, only slightly more comfortable than the main mess hall. At least the chairs look more comfortable, Tilly thought as she walked in ahead of Spock. Pike slapped the top of a table next to one of the slim bay windows, currently viewing a pulsating nebula, then turned to one of the replicators to order up food. Tilly sat her padd down, then momentarily set herself in one of the chairs for a brief second, second-guessing, then standing back up again with the intent to join Pike at the replicator, then thought better of it and sat back down. Spock had taken the chair across the table from her, and watched her indecisiveness with an echo of amusement. Tilly found herself studying anything not in Spock’s general direction, brushing down her dark shirt, fidgeting with her padd, her fingernails were suddenly very interesting.

 

“Don’t tell me you both are going to just sit while I’m the only one eating,” Pike chuckled as he gently set a bowl of steaming pasta down followed by a small glass of wine (was that wine? We can have wine? Tilly’s brain was suddenly interested in food again). 

 

“I’ll just take a couple bites of yours.” 

 

Tilly was half out of her seat when she slowly turned back, realizing those words came from Spock. Pike was unphased and already stabbing at the pasta to hand over to the vulcan. Spock eyed Tilly as she turned, then she spun back towards the replicators to order up something, ANYTHING to drive out the weird little thought that was wiggling its way into her brain. “Chicken parmesan, make sure it comes with wine, that could work, oh add some ice cream I’ve been good today,” she whispered at the machine, looking slyly back over to the table as Pike fed another bite to Spock, only to turn back to her food, her face flaring with heat. When her plate was ready, she took a steadying breath, hoping she had mis-seen what thought she saw. 

 

Concentrating on steading herself carrying dinner to the table, she caught the slightest whisper from Pike towards the vulcan before she set herself in her chair.

 

“Be nice.”

 

Tilly looked up to them both, Pike smiling almost cheerily as he took a bite, but Spock was quiet, studious, arms folded on the tabletop. She cleared her throat before picking up the wine, gesturing a little toast and a forced smile. 

 

“Welcome to the USS Discovery, Mr. Spock. I hope our ship pleases you!” Then she took a drink, quicker than she intended, but she forced herself to control the surprise cough till she swallowed it down.

 

“And I hope so as well. I’m going to assume Christopher hasn't bothered informing you about me, though I’ve learned plenty about you from him.” Tilly coughed in earnest now as Pike clinked his fork against his plate.

 

“What. . .what’s he said about me? I’m pretty adept at my job, I hope.” She wanted to kick herself at the lackluster reply. Spock betrayed a small smile as Tilly heard a shuffle and tap from under the table.

 

“Nothing but praise. You are an exemplary ensign, youngest entrant to the commander program. You’ve spearheaded several exceptionally clever improvised technological solutions since being assigned to the Discovery. .. among . . .other things.” That slight smile grew a touch, and Tilly was lost, gut screaming a warning in her head (Other things? WHAT other things?).

 

“I feel like I need to be a little more open with you, Tilly.” Pike toyed with his pasta as he sipped from his own glass. Tilly then felt that warning knot tie her insides up, ready to drop to the floor. Pike picked up on her barely held back alarm, and put the fork down to set his hand on her shoulder, squeezing before wrapping around her to pull her close. ‘Spock is not just my science officer. But I wanted to see how you two would get on with each other before I do something stupid.” Tilly snickered, but she wasn’t comforted. His hand lingered on her as he took another drink, then he withdrew, and she quietly dived into her ice cream, pushing the chicken away to make a place for the small bowl. 

 

Awkward silence again. Spock was the first to break it.

 

“I make you uneasy. Forgive me.” Tilly finished the spoonful of dessert in her mouth, then stiffly pressed her lips together.

 

“. . . Don’t apologize. My brain’s being erratically overthinky about this and I’m . . . I’m twenty kinds of awkward around people I don’t know.” Pike lay his hand over hers, pulling it enough to wrap their fingers together comfortingly as he switched his fork to his other hand. She looked at their hands entwined together, then looked up to see Pike offer Spock another bite, but Spock watched Tilly instead, shaking his head to the offer.

 

Another flare of heat crept across Tilly’s face and ears as she thrust another bite of ice cream into her mouth.

 

“Are you two…”she eventually gestured between the both of them with her spoon, “ . . . like. . . “ she paused to think of the right word. “. . . oh no . . . Oh god. . . .  you are and I’m intruding.” She pried her hand from Pike’s and pressed her cool fingers against the flush of her cheeks. “I am just . . oh no why don’t I ever pick up on these things. . . “ She heard Pike chuckle as he laid his hand across her back, comforting, though she was half sure it was to keep her from bolting from the room.

 

“She’s . . . it’s a quirk you’ll have to get used to.”

 

“I don’t need you to explain it, Christopher.”

 

Their matching voices just ran shivers down her spine, and her guilt reflex kicked in harder. Pike leaned against her, lips to her ear with a quick kiss and a whisper. 

 

“I just wanted my two favorite people to meet, nothing more. I’m not changing a thing between us, because you aren’t intruding on anything. I should be apologizing for not being open enough with you, though to be honest, I wasn’t sure if what Spock and I had was still intact.” Pike turned to get a better look at her. ‘What WE have is NOT changing . . . “ He raised his eyebrows, staring at her until she looked at him, breathing deep to calm her overreacting nerves. “Are you going to be ok?” She nodded, now more embarrassed at her gut reaction to her inflated assumptions. Pike continued to rub his hand between her shoulder blades, a comforting touch to counter her nervousness. She squared her shoulders with a few deep breaths and turned to them both.

 

“I think . . . I should go. I’m sorry.” She pushed her food back and grabbed her padd, pausing to look at them both. “I am pleased to meet you, and I’m sorry . . . for . . .“ She waved her hand a bit gesturing at herself, “. . . this. I hope . . .  *pause, breathe, Tilly, breathe* . . . to see you both later.” And then she was out of the room, Pike found himself staring after her, his expression one of confusion.

 

“That could have gone better.” Spock merely nodded in agreement at Pike’s assessment.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Stupid, stupid, stupidstupidstupid, Tilly. DUMB AS ROCKS!” She was flopped in bed, padd plastered against her forehead, mincing over every second of the aborted dinner with Pike and his officer. 

 

A thousand different alternate replies, reactions, scenarios played out in her head, and all were simultaneously infinitely better and infinitely worse than what she actually did. She wanted so much to go back and apologize twenty more times for her behavior, but she knew it was too late for that.

 

She dropped her padd and grabbed her pillow, perfect, unjudging, allergen-free, and screamed as loud as possible into it. She took a breath . . . then screamed some more. Then her poor nonjudgmental pillow got tossed across the room as she laid on her bed with her arm over her face. She was relieved that Michael wasn't here the experience her meltdown.

 

The soft whistle of the door chime sounded, and a small far-away voice followed.

 

“Ensign Tilly?”

 

Tilly groaned, at herself mostly, as she acknowledged Pike’s voice.

 

“Come in, captain.” She didn’t bother moving. Pike was greeted at the door by the lone pillow, so he swooped it up, and carried it with him to her bedside. She hadn’t moved, arm still covering his face. “What?” Pike dropped the pillow in the empty space over her head as he sat down on the mattress, moving the padd to the stand next to her bed.

 

“I should have planned that better.” He reached for her hand, slack against the blanket, and held it between both of his, massaging her fingers gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk this out with you first. One of the stupid things I occasionally do.” Tilly moved her arm enough to let her look at him from under cover of her loose sleeve. He was looking down at her fingers as he stroked them one at a time.

 

“I reacted badly too. I just looked over and you were giving him that bite and my brain just went in the worst places I’ve ALWAYS done that, just . . . . . “ She caught her breath a bit, and took it in. Pike responded by putting his hand against her stomach, sliding up to rest against her sternum. “I know you have a whole other life on the Enterprise, and you’re not going to be here forever, and I just wanted to-” She paused as she took another shaky breath.

 

“You wanted to keep me for as long as possible.” She nodded a little. He curled his fingers with hers, holding her hand tight on his lap.

 

“Yeah. God I’m being dumb.” Her voice wavered as she held back another outburst, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

 

“You’re not being dumb. I thought a few times if I might be able to requisition you away from Discovery when I go back. Who knows.” He brought her hand to his lips to kiss her fingers. She still hadn’t removed her arm from resting over her face, so he reached to her cheek and circled the back of his fingers against her skin. “I was being an idiot too. Hoping I could get my two favorite people to like each other right out the gate.” That made Tilly move her arm to eye him.

 

“Why is that so important?”

 

“You want the polite reason or the selfish reason?”

 

“. . .both.” Tilly thought it odd he worded it so specifically. 

 

“Well, the polite one is I just . . . like my crew to function efficiently and communicate well and just . . . work good together. Best done if they get a chance to know each other.” He raised his eyebrows as she stared at him, hoping to amuse her even a little at such a premade captain-y answer. She waited for the other shoe to drop. He grew a tiny bit uncomfortable under her scrutiny for once. 

 

“Well, what’s the other?”

 

“I kind of want you both at the same time. I don’t want to choose.” Pike looked damn near sheepish at admitting it. Tilly couldn’t help herself as she snorted. She literally could not envision all three of them together. Spock scared her. She wanted to brush it off as his vulcan manner, but she’d already been exposed to that manner the first few weeks with Burnham. It was his eyes. She felt as if they took hold of her and stripped her soul for those few minutes she tried to dine with them, and she did not like it at all. She understood that as part of Pike’s crew he trusted Spock with his life, but. . . he was not her crew. He was more alien than Saru to her.

 

“I’ll think about it.” It came out in a low whisper. Tilly felt horrible about lying. She wiped at her face with her sleeve again, and as she drew it away, Pike was there, capturing her mouth with his. He had yet to fail to make her breath hitch when he touched her. This time was no different as he leaned against her, and she hooked an arm over his shoulders, digging her fingers in against his scalp. She just held on this time, lying there with him comfortably embracing her, only fingers moving to touch and circle where they landed, lips warm against skin. Pike scooted onto the bed a bit more, easing the pain in his side from the awkward twist he adopted to lay with her, and he moved his head down against the crook of her neck, closing his eyes as she played with his hair, massaging the back of his neck.

 

A comfortable silence lay thick around them for a time, only the quiet hum of the ship announcing itself. Only when Michael returned from shift, walking in on them only to walk right back out in the hall to politely wait, did Pike finally take his leave. Tilly was infinitely grateful Michael had not even ventured a query about Pike's presence in their quarters.

 

She was also clueless as to how she would even try to approach Spock, make friends, if that were even possible, and the idea of asking Michael was directly at odds with what Pike had possibly proposed. If she had even understood him. Her night turned to be long and sleepless.


	2. Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spock forces Pike to think a little more sensibly.

<”Spock asked the most *amazing* questions. It’s completely logic, yet, somehow, he would make everyone see that logic was the beginning of the picture, and not the end. He was ahead of all of us in that way.”>

 

Pike rolled this conversation with Burnham from months ago through his head while he took his turn on the bridge, the quiet shift letting his mind drift to figuring a way to accommodate the vulcan, find a comfortable home for him here, even if temporarily, that would hopefully allow him space to work through his issues without threat or hinderance. Time in the psychiatric facility had gone sideways, in a manner of speaking, and now . . . he was here under the radar. Most of the crew were unaware of the accusations against his science officer, and he planned that it remain so. He had assumed introducing him to personable, friendly (even if overly chatty) Ensign Tilly would give him a friendly face to interact with his first days here, but . . . that blew up amazingly spectacularly. Subjecting him to his sister, he felt, would turn out equally successful. What the hell could he do now?

 

The moment shift change came, he was out of the chair and on the lift, determined to poke at his science officer for a hint as to what he *could* do. Could very well be simply be just to leave him alone. Pike stumbled across Spock ahead of him in the busy walkway on the way to his quarters, Spock seemingly lost in thought as his step was slow and measured. Pike caught up with him quickly enough, slipping his hand across the small of Spock’s back.

 

“Getting familiar with the ship today? How are you holding up?” Pike asked just about at a whisper, and Spock faced him, a glimmer of a smile appearing for a brief moment.

 

“I am doing well, Christopher. You worry too much.” He reached back to clasp Pike’s wrist, pulling their hands together in a momentary tangle before releasing him and returning his gaze to the hallway ahead, watching the ship’s crew go about their lives. “Did your . . . partner realize what you were up to?”

 

Pike cleared his throat a little uncomfortably.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I warned you, and yet, I am the more inexperienced between us.”

 

“I know. I’ll let you have this one.” Pike smirked as he strode alongside his vulcan. His. He caught himself thinking it again, after months of training himself out of the habit.

 

“In all the racing to get to you before the Federation did, I never asked.” He gently pulled Spock’s arm, turning him so that both stood in the walkway. “ Are we still-” he gestured between the two of them, “-okay?” Spock cocked his head a little.

 

“I wasn’t aware we were ever not. My self-incarceration did not mean that we were at an end as well, unless that was the message you received from it. I merely did not want my family knowing about my condition and coming to see me. That did not apply to you.” Pike now felt a fool. Forty-six years old going on seventeen. Not once did he check up on Spock, thinking he had been barred from the entire event.

 

“I’m sorry.” He reached for Spock’s hand again, stopping short of clasping it outright. Spock looked at him for a long moment before completing the distance and stroking his fingers along Pike’s palm.

 

“Nothing to forgive, captain. You did what you thought needed to be done.” They held each other’s gaze for a moment, then Pike was first to turn back to moving down the hall again, cocking his elbow out just slightly, which Spock gently laid his hand in the crook of, his other against the small of his back.

 

“It’s nice having you back, though. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss you. By the way, your replacement was a bit of an ass,” Pike mused. Spock actually snickered in reply.

 

“Connolly did NOT endear himself to many. Myself included. It is still a loss to have one of his skill lost in duty.” Pike just nodded in agreement. They walked the remaining distance of the walkway to Pike’s quarters in silence.

 

Once sequestered in the comfort of Pike's quarters, Spock took to the sole, comfortable chair, watching Pike as the captain shuffled off his jacket and ordered a drink from the replicator. Glass in hand, he turned, leaning up against the wall to meet eyes with Spock.

 

“Do you want to stay in your temporary quarters, or do you want to stay here? Whatever you want.” Spock merely watched Pike as he took a drink afterwards, weighing the options.

 

“I think your current partner takes priority-”

 

“She’s equal to you. Don’t doublethink this one.”

 

“And I need for her to be comfortable with the idea of me returning to your side as an active officer first. No relationship is going to work if she can’t tolerate me.”

 

“She gets along well enough with your sister.” . . . annnnd Pike immediately felt as if he stuck his foot in his mouth as Spock momentarily drew his brow tight. “I mean. . . she’s familiar with vulcan predilection for terseness. I don’t think it would take much for her to warm up to you.” He emptied his glass.

 

“Why-”

 

“-is this so important to me?” Spock withdrew his question as Pike finished it for him. “I figured you’d ask me that too. And I’ll tell you what I told her- I don’t want to choose between you two.”

 

“You can’t do that to her, Christopher.”

 

“She’s willing to give it a chance.”

 

Spock raised an eyebrow as he leaned further back into the chair. Pike knew Tilly hadn’t been completely on the level, but he’d take a chance that there was truth to it. He turned for a refill of his drink while the pause hung between them. 

 

“I’d suggest you provide her more than an at the moment lead into the Officer’s mess next time, then.” Spock rose up out of the chair as Pike turned back towards him. Pike watched his measured movements and savored the grace that exuded from his vulcan. DAMMIT. He did it again. “Meanwhile, I will remain in my temporary quarters.” Pike reached out for Spock, pulling him flush against his own body, planting his lips against the dip of Spock’s throat and Spock held him in return, resting his chin against the crown of Pike’s head. 

 

“Ten months was too long.” Pike murmured into Spock’s skin.

 

“I know.” He held his hand up in vulcan gesture, and Pike pressed his fingers in kind against it before locking their fingers together in a full clasp.

 

“Stay.”

 

“. . . I can’t, Christopher. You have another partner to accommodate first.” Spock gently pried himself out of Pike’s grip, parting with a kiss, then left Pike’s quarters. 

 

Pike questioned himself through several more glasses before he surrendered to bed.


	3. Incoming Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few messages later. . .

Several days of out-of-synch schedules, a high adrenaline run-in with an alien life form, and hiccupping ship computing systems left both Tilly and Pike too busy for any discreet dalliances. Spock kept to himself for the most part, busying himself with integrating alongside one of the experimental teams still doing their projects aboard the Discovery. 

 

Tilly was woken to the gentle blip of a waiting message on her padd. Her first time in two weeks sleeping in from double shifts, and . . . UGH who would be so rude? She pulled the padd over, rubbing at her eyes to read the ‘from’ through just-woken-up bleariness.

 

Incoming: Private from Pike, C.

 

She groaned to herself, debating reading it now, or waiting till she was more awake. Then it dawned on her that it wasn’t marked with his captain’s tag, so she tapped it open. Icons of several flowers and a heart preceded the simple request of ‘Dinner?’. OH. MY. GOD. Could he be more ridiculously retro? Old style emoticons? REALLY? She stared at it for a few minutes, and decided she liked that. 

 

Reply: Sure. Just us?

 

Tilly sent the message, then closed her eyes in the hopes for a little more of a nap. The padd blipped. She opened her eyes and picked it back up.

 

Incoming: This time, yes. Want to check out the test run of the 

holographic suite they got downstairs?

 

Downstairs? Jeeze. She was surprised that he even knew about that. Lorca had mothballed it during the war, despite its benefit at full integration simulation options, preferring instead the in-screen simulation on the bridge. Made sense at the time to have the bridge crew still at post instead of moving down to a different deck.

  
  


Reply: When?

 

Send. Wait. Snooze. Blip.

 

Incoming: A couple hours. You up for it?

 

Of course she was. 

 

. .. oh no, what should she wear? Was this a uniform gig? Fancy? Party clothes? She sat up, already panicking about it. She looked over to Michael’s bed. She was asleep still, oblivious to Tilly’s impending freakout. It was just a casual. . . oh shit. He said dinner. Dinner in the mess again? Private room? In the hologram room? CALM DOWN, TILLY. CALLLLLM. We’ve not had caffeine yet. Just ASK.

 

Reply: Yeah. Casual? Where’s dinner?

 

Tilly hit send, then quietly rustled among her casuals for something to throw on. Oh, dependable black drapey shirt. PLEASE be good enough for everything. The padd blipped again as she grabbed her handful of clothing and quietly hid in the closet of a bathroom to dress.

 

Incoming: Wherever you want.

 

Dammit Captain, that doesn’t help! She pulled her hair back, reigning it into a semi-controlled tornado of curls as she thought her reply out. Shirt, check; pants, check (as she wiggled into them); favorite strappy silver shoes, check. She picked up the padd, tapped it a bit.

 

Reply: Coffee in your quarters first? Still waking up.

 

She plunked the padd down against the sink a little harder than intended, and she grimaced as she listened for Michael. All silence outside, she resumed with her minimal makeup treatment. Blip. She leaned over to read mid-mascara swipe.

 

Incoming: Sounds more than fine. Anytime.

 

She rushed through her finish, swivelled this way and that to double-check herself, and grabbed the padd before opening the door to be greeted by a barely upright Michael.

 

“You’re up early. Thought you’d sleep more.” Michael was sliding out from the covers, yawning herself awake.

 

“Well, I got . . . plans. Last minute stuff I want to tackle, just. . . “ Tilly made a vague sweeping gesture outwards. “Just decompressing today.” She followed it wait a big smile.

 

“Uh-huh. Wouldn’t have anything to do with our captain, would it?” Michael smirked a little.

 

“Why . . . why would you say that?” She took to awkwardly brushing non-existent lint off her pants.

 

“Your poker face is terrible, Tilly.” She raised one eyebrow in her roommate’s direction as she finally stood to head to the bathroom. “Just don’t get the both of you in trouble.” 

 

“What trouble could I possibly get into?” Tilly grinned.

 

“Have fun!” The door closed with a quiet tap. She gave one more reply before tossing her padd onto her bed.

 

Reply: I’ll be up in a few.

  
  


Tilly tried to hide her rush updeck, forcing herself to slow her walk to the lift. The doors opened up onto a familiar vulcan. She inadvertently stepped back as a kneejerk response, followed by a quick and quiet apology. Spock merely took a couple steps to the side to widen the space for her, keeping his hands folded behind his back. She stepped in, turning to face forward, nervously entwining her fingers in front of her. Spock was the first to speak as the lift doors slid shut.

 

“I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable the other night. It was not my intent. I merely . . . wanted to see the person that has Christopher in such a state of elation.” He flashed a small smile at Tilly, and she turned towards him, attempting to return a grin as well.

 

“I’m sorry I reacted so badly. Can we try again?” Tilly decided to give him a second chance, especially since Pike regarded Spock so highly. “Hi, I’m Sylvia Tilly, Ensign. I’d shake your hand, but . . .”

 

“Just Spock, Lieutenant Science Officer. I’m fine with handshakes. Not all vulcans regard every handclasp as intimate.” He smiled again as her extended his had to her. She hesitated, then took it, firmly delivering the greeting. Then she thought twice about his comment.

 

“Wait, what do you mean ‘intimate’? I don’t know much anything about vulcans.” She released his hand quickly as he raised an eyebrow. That was one thing he shared with his foster sister. She regretted asking already as she tangled a finger into her curls.

 

“Touch in general is considered to be reserved for intimacy, not for public display. First contact with humans was considered a somewhat  . . . awkward affair.” He snickered a little as the lift came to a stop and the doors slid apart. “Captain’s level.” He gestured for Tilly to step out first, with himself following closely behind. After a few steps, Tilly realized they were continuing in the same direction.

 

“Heading to his quarters too?” She asked. Spock nodded, and her stomach sank a little.

 

“Only for a moment. He’s been looking forward to time with you, and I don’t want to ruin your day.” He smiled, and Tilly felt bad for assuming the worst. AGAIN. She promptly halted in the hallway, and Spock stopped to turn, watching her curiously.

 

“I am SO SORRY I keep doing this stupid thing where I think the worst and I just keep tripping over my brain I swear it tries to hijack any common sense I have where anyone else is concerned, and you’ve been nothing but polite and decent and I’m awfu-” She found herself suddenly embraced by a softly chuckling vulcan, and her first instinct was to embrace him in return.

 

“Despite what you think, you did not insult me.” He let go, resting a hand on her shoulder, looking down at her as he pulled back. Tilly took in a big breath, letting it out again shakily. “Come on, we shouldn’t keep Christopher waiting.” Tilly nodded. They both resumed the trip to Pike’s quarters in an easier silence than previously, Tilly still feeling miserable. 

 

They arrived at Pike’s room together, and upon opening the door, Pike’s face lit up to see them both. He looked as if he were about to ask something, and sensing the unasked question, Spock cut him short with a quick “No”. 

 

“Well, come in, don’t cloud my doorstep.” He stepped away and into the room, still fussing with straightening his shirt, the regulation crew shirt that he wore underneath his officer’s coat. They stepped in, door sliding closed behind them. He stopped to look at Tilly’s clothing, then Spock’s dark overcoat, then to his own clothing. “I guess I am underdressed for . . . coffee, then.” He mock frowned a little, then turned to his replicator. “Three small espressos.” The replicator complied with three small glass cups, steaming, full of the dark liquid. Pike grabbed two, gently offered them over. Tilly flitted over to the offering, quickly clasping the warm cup and leaning forward to kiss Pike before savoring the drink like a long lost friend. Pike turned to Spock, who  gently refused.

 

“I only came to update you with news from Number One.”

 

“And you couldn’t use the messaging system?” Pike took a drink from the cup.

 

“Not where I’m concerned.”

 

“Oh.” He set the cup aside on his table, leaning over to catch Tilly in another kiss before walking over, leaving through the doorway with Spock at his side. Tilly sat down on Pike’s bed as she sipped at her drink, looking about the room at Pike’s replicated decor, all dusky geometric pottery and sand art, iconic historic images from the region of his birth. So different, at odds with the slick metal and arcs of the ship. Pike returned alone some minutes later, moving to finish his cup, then moving it to reclamation. He watched Tilly sip at her cup, her eyes drifting between it and him, obviously considering an entirely different kind of breakfast. He couldn’t help but agree, and pulled the empty cup from her fingers, only getting as far as the end table before she pulled at his shirt, bringing him down till their lips met, and he pinned her against his bed with his weight.

 

“Still want to check that fancy experimental hologram room later?” he asked with a grin as he stripped his shirt off, then dropped his hands to slide hers up, kissing a trail on her skin upwards in its wake, making her softly gasp and giggle.

 

“Later, if we’re still able. I think we’re going to be a bit busy though.” She raised her arms to help him slide the shirt off and aside, eager to resume the kissing and everything else that was to follow.


End file.
